


The Fight

by CringyOverlord



Category: Monster of the Week (Tabletop RPG)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Backstory, Colorado, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fire, Forests, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Magic, Origami, Original Character(s), Supernatural Creatures, West Virginia, vape/juuling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22238986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CringyOverlord/pseuds/CringyOverlord
Summary: Casey and the FBCP crew are working on what seems to be an unbeatable case. One particularly painful loss leads to raised irritation between Hunters Xenon and Casey. A fight comes and goes and the two are left to contemplate their feelings and their shared past.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Monster of the Week (The Clifton Ramblings)





	1. Chapter 1

Casey has been pacing her kitchen for the past half hour. She would walk the ten feet to her couch, walk past her fridge, stop and peer out the front window for a few seconds, then repeat the process all over again. She was trying and failing, to calm herself down after her argument with her nephew, Xenon. Xenon wasn't his real name but recently their relationship has become more professional than familial, and somewhere in the deep, dark corners of her consciousness, Casey knew that using his real name would only bring to light her and Xenon's shared past.

For now, Casey is just pacing around the room, following the same path each time around. If she were in any other mindset she would worry that she would soon leave a slight trench around her dining table if she keeps it up. Unluckily for her flooring she only had one worry on her mind, and that was Xenon.

Casey and Xenon had come across one another while investigating a missing person's case, the fifth one in the last month. The string of disappearances was all similar in the sense that the victims were passing through Fairfax County when they suddenly fell off the grid. As far as the media knew, these people hadn't known each other before their disappearances. The people to have last seen them, whether they were co-workers, family members, or friends, all answered the same; "They just suddenly got up and left." Once the victim hit this stage, they appeared to be in a hypnotized-like state and would not acknowledge people or events around them. The victims came from all over the United States. One came from Missouri, another from Florida, from Idaho, Kansas, and the most recent, Georgia. The disappearances were spaced out at random, they could range anywhere from a week later to a little under a day. Given this information, it didn't take Casey too long to realize that, once a person disappeared for good, the next person was already selected and would be just starting their trip to Fairfax.

Having a time limit set Casey on edge and apparently, it also worried The Premium Elemental Navigators of the Investigative Supernatural, or P.E.N.I.S for short, who soon started to search the many forests and lakes in hopes of finding some sort of clue. One cold morning Casey looked out her window to find a small group of agents walking the perimeter of her lake. Seto Kaiba's lake? Whatever.

Casey quickly placed her half-eaten bowl of Froops to the side. In order to get more information on the disappearances, she would have to question the agents if she wanted to get anywhere in this mystery. Casey was in the middle of changing, tossing on whatever was closest in her attempt to leave quickly when a knock sounded at her door.

Casey moved the sliding peephole to reveal three figures standing at her door. It was the agents from before. They were none other than Agent Whelm from the FBCP sector, Xenon, and Xenon's apprentice, Corban, who are in the Elemental sector. This was no longer a surprise to Casey as it always seemed to be the three of them when the FBCP, or it's sister-organization, decided to get involved with the many mysterious occurrences of Fairfax County. Letting out a sigh, Casey slid the viewer back in place and undid her locks on the door. Once opened, Casey could get a clearer look at her visitors. Agent Whelm stood close to the porch stairs. She gave Casey an awkward smile, followed by a small nod, then looked away. Xenon was a few feet away from the door, standing with one hand in his ugly-ass, green and black Baja sweatshirt and shooting a cloud of vape out of his mouth before sucking in another lung-full from his pen. The usually calming fall air now reeked of Sour Patch Kids. Casey scrunched up her nose and looked to the last member of their crew, Corban. The poor middle-aged man was standing directing in front of the door, looking at her anxiously. Casey let out an exasperated sigh and leaned against the doorframe. "You guys here for the missing persons' case?" Casey asked, looking at Xenon for the answer.

Xenon gave no answer, instead, Corban gave a wave and moved into Casey's line of sight. "Yes, actually... we were wondering if you had any information that would help us in our investigation," Corban looked towards Xenon then continued, "We were thinking they might have passed through here before they disappeared." He then pulled out 5 portraits from his bag and fanned them out for Casey to see. They were pictures of the victims. I don't recognize any of them. She examined the pictures a second longer. Race, gender, and age don't seem to be a key factor either. Completely random.

Casey looked back up towards Corban. "I'm guessing you guys haven't found anything, then? It's rare to see you asking around."

Corban became more nervous and started to answer but he was cut off by Agent Whelm. "Sorry," She chimed in, "that's classified." Agent Whelm gave an apologetic smile. She and Casey weren't close, a fact Casey begrudgingly knew was because of the Agent's involvement with the FBCP. If they had met under other circumstances? If Whelm wasn't an Agent, Casey could easily see them being friends. Agent Whelm was sweet enough, perhaps a bit oblivious to certain things but that didn't make her any less pleasant to be around. In actuality, Casey couldn't think of one characteristic that would prevent her from pursuing a friendship with the younger woman in the first place.

The FBCP changes that.

Casey can't trust an organization that captures creatures and mysterious items and keeps them for themselves, never to be seen again. People deserve to know about the supernatural things that go on right under their noses. Some creatures like the moth-girl Luna don't deserve to be feared, but things like the Bunnyman and Judgement are dangerous. If people aren't even aware of these things then there's no way they can defend themselves if they are attacked. It's a thought Casey has had constantly but her common sense is quick to reply: It would cause widespread panic and people would attack creatures indiscriminately. People like Luna would end up worse off than before. When morality is brought in, the answer is always so much harder to find. Casey can only sit alone and ponder which outcome is worse; don't warn the people and let many perish, or tell the world, knowing full well that the peaceful monsters are, from that point on, doomed.

More importantly, Casey can't trust an organization that would willingly let a child into their ranks. A child that has the brain of a goldfish and that is currently standing on her porch, blowing another rancid puff of vape into the morning air.

Casey finds that her gaze has settled on Xenon. She's quick to return her eyes to Agent Whelm, then attempt to smile at her. It's strained and she knows it but it would have to do. "I don't have anything to offer but I figure you don't have anything either. If you want, I'll send you a text if I find anything but you'll have to do the same for me."

Whelm begins to decline when Xenon finally speaks up. "We can do that," Xenon said, nodding affirmatively. He had just stuck his Sour Patch Kids vape back into his lime green fanny pack, the same one that is usually found slung across his chest. As he pulled out a new flavor from inside his sweatshirt, the boy made his way to the front door of the cabin until he's standing in front of Casey. "Can I sleep here, then?" Casey squinted at him, eyebrows pinched together, as if to ask, 'Why the hell?'. In response to her silent question, he answered, "I just don't want to sleep in the same room as Corban." Xenon smiled and then walked past Casey, ignoring the look of hurt and then pure exhaustion that spread over Corban's face. Casey gave another strained smile then followed her nephew inside.

\----------

Weeks go by and yet the investigation makes no more headway. No matter how much Casey researched, she couldn't find any possible victims broadcasted in the media and no one new showed up in Fairfax, at least not yet. Even with the lack of activity, the investigators grew antsy and it began to show in their interactions.

Lately, with Xenon sleeping in Casey's office (which was quickly and poorly rearranged to accommodate Xenon's sleeping needs) the two have been forced to stay in each other's presence for longer than what they are used to. Whatever the thirteen-year-old thought would happen when he told his aunt (who he's on not-so-friendly terms with) that he would be staying with her for the duration of the investigation, it's very unlikely that he would be able to predict that they would be at one another's throats by the third day.

The investigation had hit a bit of a snag. No more progress was made on the hunters' side but that didn't mean the disappearances would stop. That said, the team was rushing out of their homes when they were informed at 4:37 a.m. on the third day that a young girl, about the age of five, was found walking down the main road on the outskirts Clifton, Virginia. She was dirtied and worn down but still made her way towards town on unwavering feet. The girl was promptly taken to the police station by the pair of teenagers that had first found the child. By the time that Casey and the Agents got there, the girl was gone. A split second without supervision was all the girl needed to make her escape. Search parties were sent out as soon as possible but to no avail.

The curse claimed its sixth victim.

When Casey and Xenon finally returned home after fourteen hours of searching and coming back with nothing, things were tense.

Admittedly, Casey was feeling pretty helpless. She's lost people to cases before, more than she would care to count. However, she's never been at such a loss for what the cause is. The information gathered is still that of a case that is still fairly new. This case has been going on for over a month and the number of victims keeps on climbing.

Casey is feeling cornered. Although rare, and oftentimes fleeting, this is a feeling that gets her in a lot of trouble. The most prominent example would be the event that took place over a year ago. The event that, with Casey at her lowest, she broke apart any familial bond that was between her and her nephew. Her nephew--who she played with in her youth, who she doted on and cared for and just wholeheartedly loved--suddenly became simply Agent Xenon, a person that Casey hardly associated with and that made her want to gag with a feeling she doesn't even want to begin to understand. Casey destroyed their relationship back then.

And she was about to do it again.

Casey couldn't remember how the fight started. Perhaps it was just a mix of frustration and exhaustion that was built up through the last few days that lead to the tipping point. Yelling was thrown between the two hunters that had left them both huffing and fuming afterward. All that Casey could remember was how the fight was ended. Casey had just said something along the lines of: "You're such a child!" Or "You immature brat!".

Xenon, with his eyebrows tightly pinched together and his face scrunched with a look of anger, spoke quickly, "I'm the child? You're the one that made a whole new life for herself because she didn't want to deal with her problems!"

Casey balled her hands around the back of the chair she was leaning on. The vice-grip left her knuckles white. "We will not be talking about this, Xenon. Not right now. Not today. Not ever." Her voice settled into a low growl. A warning.

There's a pause then Xenon speaks up, "You know there's no one else here, right? Even if we're alone you don't even bother trying to call me anything but Xenon. What are you trying to do Cassie-".

"No no NO! YOU aren't allowed to call me that!" She whirled on him, "I'm not Cassidy Wilson. The Cassidy you knew died over a year ago." Casey paused and she felt her glare deepen when she continued, "And you are not Kyle Wilson. Not since you decided to pick up that stupid badge and started playing with the Premium Elemental---whatever it's called. NEITHER of us are who we were before. When they died, so did any relation between us. You are not my nephew and you are not my problem."

Now, Xenon is one who rarely lets his true feelings show on his face. He puts on the same lazy smirk or nothing at all. However, as the words left her mouth, Casey is nearly thrown for a loop when the boy's expression slowly contorts to one that shows distinct hurt. When Casey is done and they had been huffing and puffing for a few tense moments, Xenon eventually collects himself. He now wears a stone-cold stare, one with enough confidence that would have made Casey reconsider his last expression if it weren't for the sadness still lingering in his hazy blue eyes. A second later, Xenon is storming out of Casey's cabin, without a single utterance, and slamming the door behind him.

Casey stared after him for a moment but her blood is still boiling. She got what she wanted, for him to be gone, so she should be happy, right? So why does is she still upset? Still fuming, Casey walked over to her cluttered sink where dishes had piled up over the last week. Being constantly on the clock left zero time to take care of them, and now, looking at them, Casey grows ever more frustrated. She grabs the nearest dishware--an old bowl of froops--and begins cleaning. She probably scrubs a bit too hard and leaves light scratch marks on only good ceramic. She continues the process of scraping her dishes clean then slamming them back onto the counter to dry. Whether she knows it or not, she is trying to anchor herself back to Earth. Such a menial task requires nothing else of the brain and very little physical exertion. She needs to have a small win is this clusterfuck that she calls her life. Casey Smith needs to feel she has at least a little control over her life. That is until she finds herself scraping at a particularly nasty stain that just won't come out. She gives up, whipping the plate back into the sink with a loud clatter. There's no doubt a broken dish or two will have to be plucked out of the basin later. Casey isn't worried about that now.

She's staring at the offending pile and is huffing again. Her lip starts to quiver and her eyes start to sting. It takes all the strength she can muster to slowly drop herself to the floor and against the lower cabinet door. Her hands are pressed to her cheeks, a feeble attempt to try to physically keep herself from falling apart.

This is all my fault. Casey thought to herself. God, maybe I am acting like a child. I'm supposed to be the grown one, but I'm sitting on the floor of my kitchen in the middle of a tantrum and fighting back tears. The thought causes a wave of emotion and Casey is disgusted to feel a tear slowly drip down her face.

Casey thinks about Xenon and thinks about how late it is. Maybe he shouldn't be out so late? Aside from the disappearances, we're due for another strange occurrence. So maybe... Even with her inner reasoning, she's fully aware of how foolish it is. Xenon is the strongest and most capable thirteen-year-old she knows and who would probably scoff at the concern.

Casey goes into her contacts and finds Xenon's number. She should do this. She needs to clean up this mess she caused as soon as possible. However, her cowardice gets the better of her because she finds that she exits out of the app altogether a few too many times. She eventually throws in the towel. She groans as she presses the power button to her phone and slaps it face-first into the floor. Casey rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed in defeat.

How could she have ever let it get this far? Casey had set up her life so that she could be great and be written in the history books. What caused her life to take such a left turn that she's sitting in her cabin in the middle of nowhere after chasing away her thirteen-year-old nephew?

To answer that, the story must be explained starting at the beginning. Casey Smith, when growing up, was not Casey Smith. She went by the name Cassidey Wilson, commonly referred to as Cassie among friends, family, and people that she was on friendly terms with. While the name "Casey Smith" was created by the woman herself, about a year before the present day's events, the name "Cassidy Wilson" was a name created by the woman's parents, on the day of her birth, in 1996. Cassie's family consisted of three people: her brother, who was eight years older, and their two parents. This lasted until a fifth member was suddenly brought in. It was a baby boy, already a few months old, and fondly named "Kyle Wilson" before he was brought home. Cassie, now eleven years old, quickly took a liking to the boy and made sure to help out with caring for the boy whenever she could, although she was not unkindly brushed away more often than not by her parents. It didn't take long before the truth was revealed. Kyle was the son of Cassie's older brother, and therefore, her nephew. Nevertheless, Cassie took this new information in strides and continued as if nothing changed, although, her older brother made fewer and fewer appearances as time went on.

As Cassie grew older, and Kyle along with her, she was able to take on more responsibilities for her sibling-nephew. She got to teach him how to speak, how to walk, how to swim, she got to read to him and helped him with his homework when he got to elementary school. Even with the confusing beginning, they were able to be the family they were destined to be.

In her youth, Cassie had decided that she wanted to make a difference in the world, and figured that becoming president would be the best course of action. As the years passed Cassie pushed herself academically and worked up her rank in the community. Upon graduating High School she ran for mayor in her town and won by a major margin. When she was twenty-two, she decided that it was time to start running for the Senate.

That's when things started getting weird. Her campaign brought to her some of her busiest, and some of her quietest days. One day, while finding a way to pass time, she came across an online series that talked about "myths" and supernatural beings. Having spent some time in the government as an intern, she was able to gather that a few theories actually proved true. What's more, she began questioning if these "myths" actually held some weight to them. She began doing research and came to the startling revelation that creatures like Mothman, the Bunnyman, and Big Foot are real. While she knew just how crazy the idea would be to the everyday person, she also believed that they deserved to know the truth. If their life could be endangered than they have every right to know about these unseen threats.

On the biggest day of Cassie's career, instead of talking about her thoughts on war, taxes, or her thoughts on marijuana, she told everyone the truth. Everyone laughed.

It was the biggest and last day of Cassie's career. 

That day she packed her bags and left Colorado for good. She left her beloved nephew and her parents who have now disowned both of their kids, leaving them with only their twelve-year-old grandson to keep them company.

A few months go by and Cassie now goes by Casey. She has been living in a cabin in Clifton, West Virginia, a place that is considered a hot-spot for supernatural encounters from what she has been able to gather online. Her cabin is lacking in furniture, having spent nearly all of her money on the cabin itself. As of right now, she is sleeping on the floor of what she plans on having as her bedroom. Casey is thinking about income when she gets a call from an unknown number. She presses answer without hesitation, assuming it to be an online friend. The person on the other side of the phone, however, is not an online friend, but instead an all too familiar voice. The person asks for Casey to meet them at the Denny's located in town, then hangs up. 

It gets into town with a record time, which feels like too long for Casey who is fighting for every hitch of breath she can by the time she gets to the Denny's. Once outside she collects herself as much as she can, then walks in, trying to feint the look of coolness. Her gaze scours the diner for the person she is looking for, but without any luck, because eventually a hand comes up behind one of the booths and waves her down. When she gets to the table she feels a rush of happiness as she recognizes the face of her dear nephew, Kyle. He looks different somehow, it had only been about three months and yet he looks less like a child and more like a teenager. He's dressed in a scratchy, green and gray Baja sweatshirt. Definitely not cute. Casey must have been staring for too long because now Kyle is looking bored (or maybe he's looked like that since before she came in) and cuts into her thought. "Cassie. It's been a while," Kyle stated. His voice hasn't changed much but his leveled tone IS slightly put off by his slightly squeaky voice. Casey almost wants to laugh if it weren't all so strange. What is he doing across the country? and how did he find her?

"Uh..." Casey awkwardly takes her seat, sliding into the booth across from the boy. "You shouldn't call me that here," Casey whispered. She glanced around the diner to be sure that none of the other people overheard.

Kyle looked at Casey with a confused look. With an eyebrow raised, he asked, "Your... name?"

Casey opened her mouth to explain but gave up before anything came out. "Just... call me Casey, alright?" 

Kyle looked confused then almost uncomfortable but nodded anyway. "Alright, Casey, I..." His face scrunched up, contemplative, then continued, "You just sorta left. You didn't say goodbye." It's a statement but the question that goes unasked doesn't go unnoticed. Why? 

"I gave my speech and nobody wanted to hear it. I couldn't stay there. A just had a feeling that if I stayed there it would have caused more trouble than good." Kyle seemed discontent with her answer but didn't push any further. Casey shook herself, trying to get herself on track. "Wait, what are you doing here? D-Does mom and dad know?" Again, Casey is looking around the diner, looking for familiar faces. Kyle waved her off.

"They don't know. But..." Kyle looked off to another area of the diner, and following his gaze, Casey swears it lingers on an empty booth. Kyle's gaze snapped back to his aunt. "I need to tell you something." He took a deep sigh then continued, his voice lowered when he spoke, "You were right when you said that there are creatures out there. Creatures like- bigfoot and Mothman." 

Casey is surprised by this conversation but the look in his eyes tells her he isn't fooling around. "Well, DUH. I wouldn't have embarrassed myself in front of thousands of people if I didn't think I was right." She looked away then brought her attention back to the young boy. "What convinced you? and how did you get all the way across the country if the parents don't know? Do I need to call them-"

"We both know you won't do that." Kyle fixed Casey with a hard glare, feezing her in her tracks. He sighed, closing his eyes and putting a Juul into his mouth. Casey is startled, she hadn't realized he had one resting on the table when she walked in, having confused it for a pen.

"Hey! Who said you could have one of those-?" Casey made a grab for the vape pen but he quickly yanked it out of her reach.

"Well, it certainly wasn't you. You were too busy moving yourself to West Virginia." He puffs a cherry vape cloud into the space between them, fixing Casey with a glare. Casey pursed her lips and fell back into her seat. "As for what convinced me?" Kyle said once he was done with his vape break, "Well, that's what I wanted to talk about. A few months back," he eyes Casey, "two weeks before your speech, to be exact. I-" Kyle stopped, clearly struggling with the right words. "I got hired at an organization. This organization works to collect magical items and to prevent supernatural outbreaks." Kyle looked up, having been eyeing his palms. "They're called the Premium Elemental Navigators of the Investigative Supernatural. They hired me for my magical abilities and I-" Casey waves him to a stop, not being able to comprehend the utter bombshell he just dropped on her.

"Hired? Kyle- You're barely out of elementary school. You can't- do you know what that's called? It's called child labor." Casey puts her head into her hands. "You're just a kid. I should've known you don't actually know what you're talking about." Casey lowered her hands and is about to push herself up and out of her seat when Kyle grabs her hand. She looked up to find imploring, shiny blue eyes meet her hazel ones. Casey quiets and waits for Kyle to speak.

Kyle doesn't speak, instead, he grabs a manilla folder that was resting on his booth and slides it over to Casey. "That's all the proof you should need." Casey looked down at the folder and with uncertain movements, she opened it up. Inside was a collection of photographs and documents, all dating anywhere between a few days ago to two weeks before Casey's blunder of a speech. Casey can feel her eyebrows pinch as she reads through the documents. Very few parts are written in Kyle's handwriting but very little is typed out as well. Scouring the pages she finds that "Agent Xenon", "Agent Whelm", "FBCP", and "P.E.N.I.S" pop up the most. One talks about a werewolf, another about a crystal that could grant immortality, and the last about a puddle that could drown kids. Casey flips the page and finds a document title: "Training" in big letters. The first part covers his basic information, but under "Name" it says "Xenon", everything else, however, is the same. Same hair and eye color, same birthday, same age... The second page covers his weapons of choice, his abilities, and his weaknesses. On the side of the page, a picture is a paperclip on. It's a picture of Kyle, in a T-shirt and basketball shorts, and he is being hit on the top of the head with a foam bat by a young girl, around the age of eighteen or nineteen, with darker skin, and black hair that had recently been dyed a dark purple. Kyle quickly yanked the picture off of the page and brings it to his side of the table, flipping it over in the process. "Uh... You don't need to see that." He is clearly embarrassed so Casey chooses not to comment.

Casey's gaze returns to her nephew and she feels like she's aged twenty years in these last few minutes. She takes her hands off the manilla folder and slides them onto Kyle's. She sighs, tired. "Ky, just be honest with me." Hazel eyes meet blue eyes. "Is all this for real?" Casey might not know how good her judgment could be in these types of situations but she can at least rely on her uncanny ability to tell when something is a lie. Kyle swallowed. He seemed tense and with the slight shake his hands are doing under Casey's, she can already feel the tension leave her shoulders. Maybe it all really is just a bad joke. Before she can remove her grip, he finally speaks.

"No, Cas. I'm not lying."

Casey feels her veins run cold. It's not a lie. Her mouth goes dry as she struggles for words. Luckily for her, though, Kyle does instead.

"I know it's bad, what with the whole age thing, but you don't have to worry about me."

Casey pulls her hands away from Kyle, suddenly feeling like she's plunging her hands into freezing water. There's a moment of silence before she gathers herself again. "What does this mean? Kyle- What about mom and dad? How are you sneaking this under their noses?" Casey's voice is soft, too soft for the feeling she's trying to convey.

Kyle looks pained. He gives Casey a despairing look before he speaks, softly and a tad bit broken. "No one calls me Kyle anymore, Cas. They call me Xenon."

Casey stands suddenly. She doesn't want to hear anymore. She stays, however, not being able to move her feet out of the booth and out the door. Casey attempts to collect herself, closing her eyes and clenching her fists at her sides. 

How can an organization so dangerous even THINK to hire a child? Impressive abilities or not. He could DIE. Then who's fault would it be? Certainly not mine! No wonder they have to be so secretive about all of this. Sketchy much? Sure, this is good for taking care of some problems but a few agents can't be everywhere at once! The people deserve to know! This whole thing is so foolish and Xenon is foolish for even considering joining this looney show, to begin with.

Casey is glaring now and she focuses this anger on the boy in front of her. "I can't believe you were so stupid to agree to any of this. You're leaving your family behind and you don't even know if they'll see you again until they have to put you in a casket."

Xenon appears shocked for a second but he slowly starts to chuckle. "Well, Casey, I think you're getting confused. I thought we were supposed to be talking about me but it seems like you're only talking about yourself."

Casey shook her head. She moves out of the booth and glares daggers at Xenon. "Lose my number," Casey growls before she leaves Xenon at the table by himself.

Returning to the present, Casey is still sitting on the floor of her kitchen and halfway through her reflection on her past, she had felt hot tears slowly flood down her face and she somehow felt more miserable than from when she was first left by herself. With a decisive breath, she quickly wiped her face and pulled out her phone. Once on, the screen was still on Xenon's number. After all these months, it's Casey who couldn't let go of the last form of communication she has with her nephew. Casey sniffs and hits the call button before she has time to chicken out again. It rings out before the robotic voice on the other end tells her to leave a message. With a huff, she hangs up. She goes to her messages and finds Xenon's number. When she goes to type she is left at a loss. She can't think of what to send, and it takes a couple of minutes of her just staring at the screen before she types in the only thing she can think to send:

"Please come home"

Casey struggles to hit send, but when she does, she feels a tension she didn't know she was holding finally release. Once done, she tosses her phone onto the kitchen table, having stood up and paced around the room towards the beginning of her crisis. She rubbed her face and let out a loud groan. A moment later Casey is forcing herself to breathe evenly again. Once leveled out, she's come to a final decision. 

Casey turns on the porch light, turns her phone notification sound up all the way, and starts up a pot of coffee. She takes a seat at her kitchen table, adjusts her phone in front of her and starts to wait. It was gonna be a long night.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xenon finds himself in the woods after leaving Casey's. Time for reflection.

A full moon rests in the dark, night sky. Stars twinkle around the golden sphere as if to keep it company on its long journey through its orbit. Trees frame Xenon's view of the night sky from his position on the ground. He doesn't know how long he's been lying here but the scenic sight before him makes him no longer care. The long rescue search that took place that day had drained any and all energy from his body. Although he had finally managed to catch his breath his legs ached and he just wished he were anywhere else. Well, ALMOST anywhere else. 

The memory of his and Casey's fight flash through his mind and he is suddenly feeling even more miserable than he was before. Xenon flips over onto his side, deciding that he'd much rather pick at the slightly wet grass. With one of his vapes gripped tightly in his left palm, he uses the fingers on his right hand to twist and curl a green strand between his thumb and forefinger. Casey had always seemed older and wiser in his eyes, having grown up with her there to show him the ropes, so the fact that it seems like she really has given up on him just hurts all the more. Xenon runs his nail along the stem of the grass blade and when it's cut in half, he tosses it aside and grabs a new one. He pulls his vape to his mouth and sucks in a breath. He tastes the tang of a monster drink in his mouth and he eventually shoots it into the night air. He looks at the cloud hovering beside him and ponders folding it but his hands are full already, and admittedly, he isn't in a good enough mood to do anything fun. Xenon sets his vape back into his fanny pack so he can use both hands to tie a couple of grass blades together. 

Xenon is aware of just how odd his childhood has been, with his grandparents acting as his parents, his aunt who tried to be an older sibling---one that hates his guts now, apparently---and his actual parents basically went to the store thirteen years ago to pick up some milk and never came back. The good news about the last one is that at least he can make jokes about that sorta thing and it wouldn't be a joke. Good times. Anyways, what didn't help was that Casey (Cassie? God. This is getting confusing) had become freaking MAYOR when he was seven, and if you don't think that put Xenon in slightly higher standing compared to other elementary schoolers his age then you better guess again. Of course, that meant there was also this added pressure to be just as good as his aunt. Teachers expected- no, they WANTED him to be just as smart as her, to have her natural curiosity, to have the same sort of drive as her... this was all wrong though. Xenon lacked any interest in learning, being much more interested in folding boats and boxes out of his notebook paper. Even during gym class, he would hide under the bleachers until class was over or until a gym teacher chased him out. However, people didn't just compare him to "Cassie" they also compared him to his parents. Xenon could always hear the whispers from adults that were expressing their "concern" over if the apple didn't fall too far from the tree. Some even worried that Xenon's mere existence could drag their beloved mayor's name through the mud. Little did they know that she would do that all herself a few years later. 

He didn't know much about his parents, with his grandparents having apparently taken an oath of silence on the topic, and Casey seemed at a complete loss for once whenever he asked. Xenon can still imagine young Casey pulling a face as if she just smelled something rotten and answered, "I can't help you there, Ky." Xenon knew one thing though, he got his looks from his mom. This doesn't mean much. It's just something that becomes obvious when you see what his dad looks like.

It's hard but Xenon can vaguely remember a nineteen-year-old Casey pulling him to her side and her talking in hushed tones as she handed him the photograph. Casey had pulled back his bangs so he could better make out what he was seeing. It was an older picture of the family before Xenon was brought in. His grandparents were both looking at the camera, they looked much younger than they did at the time, but the slight tightness to their smiles showed the irritation they had for their unruly kids. There was a young girl- Cassie says that it was her when she was Xenon's age. She was holding onto her father's fingertips and was looking off to the left of the picture, appearing to have no interest in the picture currently being taken.

"But you've always been old," young Xenon---Kyle had deadpanned, still gazing at the photo with searching eyes as he ran a small finger down its glossy surface. Cassie had scoffed and flicked the side of his head. They tussled for a while but Kyle had eventually gotten the upper hand. At least that's what he wants to remember. Eventually, they settled back into their original positions and Kyle began looking again. His eyes fell to the unfamiliar figure to the right of the picture. It was a man that seemed a couple of years younger than Cassie's age now. Kyle's grandmother was tugging lightly at the boy's sleeve, perhaps to keep him in place or to draw his attention back to the project at hand. 

Cassie pressed her fingertip to the boy in the picture's chest. "That's Brett, your dad." her voice is restrained, bearing no discernible emotions. Kyle remembers looking up to his aunt then, his eyes about the size of saucers. Without a word, he returns his gaze to the photo, now awestruck. His father is looking away from the camera, albeit to the right instead of the left. His father- Brett, wore a lazy smile and half-lidded eyes that gave the impression that he was bored with the whole ordeal. He looked a lot like Cassie. He looked a lot like their parents as well. They look like a normal family. Kyle had always had a nagging feeling that he made their family photos look... off. Looking at this picture made him realize his worries weren't ill-founded. Aside from that year that Cassie had bleached her hair, Kyle had always stuck out like a sore thumb in their yearly Christmas card. It wasn't just his hair, though. His eyes appeared lighter, his skin more ashen, and his face more round than angular. 

"Do I look like my mom?" Kyle asked, coming out almost as an inaudible whisper. The boy doesn't even realize he said it until it's already out of his mouth. It was the same question that has been plaguing his thoughts for as long as he can remember.

Cassie looks nearly as thrown off as Kyle feels. She thinks for a few seconds, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling in concentration. The woman looked back to Kyle and lightly shook her head. "I never met her, Ky. I'm not sure... WHY exactly. Brett must not have wanted us to..," Cassie trailed off, leaving her answer unfinished.

Kyle decided not to push the question anymore. He looked back at the photograph. He started thinking back to what his teachers said. How his father was a bad student, and as the years went on, they seemed to think that Kyle only grew to fill in the hole that his father left behind. The idea that Kyle is just a copy of someone who had disappointed so many people, leaves a stone in the bottom of Kyle's stomach. With pleading eyes, Kyle looked back to his aunt. "Do you think I'm just like dad?" Looking back, the boy is aware of how uncomfortable the question was to just spring on a person. Judging by the face that Cassie pulled, she must have felt the same way. 

Cassie recovered quickly. Her face scrunched up and she appeared to be looking deep into Kyle's eyes, and then deeper still. She spoke softly but her tone stayed confident. "Of course not, Ky. You're special. You know that." Cassie's face twisted back into a sly smile. "You'd not that much of a loser."

They continued like that for a bit longer before they heard Kyle's grandparent's car pull up in the driveway. Cassie quickly shooed Kyle into the next room and the two never spoke about it again.

There is a small pile of knotted grass by the time that Xenon zoned back into the present. A cold breeze hit Xenon in the face, chilling him to the core. His nose is numb and his ears sting. The boy shivered involuntarily. He pulled up the hood of his Baja sweatshirt and started rifling through his fanny pack. He has to dig a while but he eventually finds his favorite vape at the very bottom. He doesn't use it much, only when he's feeling especially shitty. Xenon pulled the stick to his mouth, he breathed in and held it. The teenager was going to summon a small fire that he could use for warmth. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He exhaled, and instead of a cloud of smoke, out came a fire. Just. Fire. Xenon yelped as the flame got caught by another gust of wind and twisted back into his face. Xenon swatted at his sweatshirt when the chest area ignited. When it was finally put out, the boy was breathing heavily and he could only stare in shock. His magic rarely failed and of course, it failed today of all days.

Xenon groaned and flopped back onto his back. He rubbed at his face, ignoring his slightly singed collar. He's laying there for what feels like hours. His eyes sting---but not from the cold---and he's puffing away at his vape, trying to seek sanctuary in the familiar taste, when a shadow flies over him. He hears someone land a few feet away and by the time that he is sitting up the person speaks up. 

"Xenon?" The voice can be recognized as the moth girl Luna. Her voice carries the usual softness and Xenon feels a smile tug at his lips when his eyes land on his dear friend. 

"Oh, hey, Luna." Xenon puts his legs crisscrossed and leans on his free hand, hoping to come off at nonchalant. It must not work because Luna's eyebrows furrow and her head sightly tilts in an inquisitive way.

"What are you doing out here?" Luna walked closer to where Xenon is sitting. The answer comes in the form of a half-hearted shrug. Luna is starting to look concerned, her gaze falling on the pile of freshly plucked grass then back to her friend. "Are you okay? I smelled some smoke." Luna took her seat across from Xenon, mirroring her friend's position but keeping her hands clasped together in her lap. 

Xenon chuckled, tugging at the burnt area of his sweatshirt. "Yeah, sorry. I meant to make a small fire to warm me up a bit. As you can tell, it didn't work out very well." he laughed again, trying to brush it off as less of a deal than it was. 

Luna pursed her lips in disapproval. "You shouldn't be starting fires in the forest, Xenon. At least not when it's so windy." 

"Yeah... I think I learned my lesson," Xenon mumbled. He plucked at the singed strands of his messed up sweatshirt. The fabric has been bled on, cut up, dragged through the dirt, and now burnt, and Xenon still doesn't think he'll be getting rid of it anytime soon. 

Luna's face fell. "If you're so cold, why aren't you at Casey's?" her tone isn't accusatory, it's comforting. Luna has been one of the greatest friends Xenon has had. She's always made it clear that he could go to her for help if he ever needed it. He hasn't asked her for any help in the months that he's known her, simply because he hasn't come across any problems that he wanted to bother her with. However, he wanted to bother her with this one.

"It's... complicated..," Xenon said, nearly covering up his response with another puff of vape.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" Luna asked. Xenon pulled his favorite vape from his mouth. The taste is leaving him feeling more queasy than comforted but he chokes down the fumes anyway. He gives a quiet, affirmative, "yeah". They sit in silence for a few tense minutes. When Xenon gives no sign of continuing, Luna speaks softly again. This time, uncertain. "Xenon. Are you alright?"

The thirteen-year old's lips are pursed and when he looks back up to his friend, his eyes are pleading. His friend is slightly taken aback, having never encountered this side of him before. Luna quickly recovers and moves to his side, rubbing small circles into his back. She's whispering words of comfort to her younger friend as he clutches onto his vape with white knuckles. Luna, the kindful soul that she is, waited patiently for her friend to talk. She didn't push or press. Luna, even without her heightened, could have easily caught the heavy scent of froops that weighed down the air with a new and painful kind of meaning.

The scene fades on the two friends sitting in deafening silence.


End file.
